'Sagaris! My good Sagaris!' he cried joyously.
The Syrian knelt before him and kissed his hand, but uttered no
word. At sight of Basil, for which he was not at all prepared,
Sagaris felt a happy shock; he now saw his way before him, and had
no more anxiety. But, on rising from the obeisance, he let his head
drop; his eyes wandered: one would have said that he shrank from
observation.
'Speak low,' said Basil, standing by the open door so as to guard
against eavesdropping. 'What message have you for me?'
Sagaris replied that he had none.
'None? Your lord charged you with nothing for me in case you should
meet me on your way?'
Again Sagaris murmured a negative, and this time with so manifest an
air of confusion that Basil stared at him, suspicious, angry.
'What do you mean? What are you keeping from me?'
The man appeared to stammer incoherencies.
'Listen,' said Basil in a low, friendly voice. 'You know very well
that the lord Marcian has no secrets from me. With me you can speak
in entire confidence. What has come to you, man? Tell me--did your
lord leave Rome before or after you?'
'At the same time.
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